


The Man and the Dragon

by milka121



Series: Superhero AU [1]
Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Blood and Injury, Civilian Sorey, M/M, Supervillain Mikleo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 19:52:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11858523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milka121/pseuds/milka121
Summary: Sorey had everything needed to become a hero, but choose to be a scholar instead. Still, he's not the one to ignore evil when he sees it.Which brings him to the question: what should you do when you find an injured, unconscious supervillain?





	The Man and the Dragon

Sorey was having a quite normal and uneventful day. Not that it was not exciting, far from it - he always loved attending lectures at his university - but there was nothing too defying from the norm. Which was good. Sorey would probably not bear one more supervillain attack.

Not that he _couldn’t_ manage fighting, or even winning against them, he just… really, really would prefer not to. But for some reason, the villains kind of took a liking to him, if you could say that. Probably because Sorey had the potential to be a perfect hostage: all of his friends were superheroes, he was practically living alone since his grandpa was usually too invested fighting crime somewhere far away, and he was seemingly defenceless.

The key word being “seemingly.”

Sorey could still remember that one time when Rose got bored and asked him for a quick spar. Sorey complied, though not enthusiastically - fighting with Rose was like playing the Russian Roulette - and not five minutes later, he was pinned to the ground by Rose’s hand on his throat.

“Wow, I can’t remember the last time someone has lasted so long against me,” Rose said with a bit of acknowledgment. “What is your power, exactly?”

“Ghaaaght,” replied Sorey, frantically patting the ground in surrender and with his face getting more and more red.

“Oh. Sorry.” Rose let him go, and Sorey immediately took in a deep breath, trying not to choke on the air.

“It's...” He coughed. “A general… body enhancement power.”

Rose pouted. “Well, that sounds boring. But I suppose it could be useful. You sure you don’t want to be a hero?”

“And get beaten up like that every day? No, thanks.” Sorey coughed once more and grabbed the hand Rose was offering. He was yanked up, violently, and before he was hit again (“Never let your guard down around the enemy, Sorey!”), he wondered why all of his friends just so happened to be superheroes. Of course, the career as a superhero could be nice, given the public recognition and sometimes even utter respect, but he couldn’t exactly see how someone could _like_ it. But he could understand the point in the government persuading the supers to put their powers into the good use - if someone had a great skill and talent in combat, like Rose, it was a shame not to use it to protect the city.

Well, it probably wasn’t that complicated for Sorey’s friends. Rose clearly was in this just for kicks; Dezel - for Rose. Lailah and Edna were in the business long before the rest have shown up. Together, these two were a quite popular duo before they decided to train some promising youngsters, and though their true identities were never revealed to the public, the Fire and the Earth combo was widely known. Mostly by the villains who got their asses kicked by them.

Sometimes Sorey wondered if he really should know all their secret identities, but Lailah always brushed that off.

“We were friends before we were heroes, and I think you deserve to know the truth. It would be awkward for you to be the only one who doesn't know what's really going on!”

She was right, of course. It would be hard to explain otherwise as to why all of them seemed to suddenly disappear as soon as any supervillain attacked the city. Which was more often than not, unfortunately.

Sorey entered the bus and sat on the nearest free place he could find. He checked his phone. _Still no response from Rose, huh…?_ He debated in his mind whether or not write one more message to her before he opened the news website.

_Supervillain strikes again: the Dragon seen near the city centre…_

Oh, no wonder they were preoccupied, then. The Dragon was one of the most obstinate and unpredictable villains that has ever appeared in Ladylake; he was able to stand against the whole group of heroes, and his power… Wow.

Sorey fidgeted nervously with his phone for a while, and with a sigh, he let his curiosity win. He opened the fansite in his browser. The Heroes’ Longue, as it was called, was usually amusing to read through with the rest of his friends - all that theories and speculations about the origins and powers of the heroes all around Glenwood were seriously rivalling Lailah’s puns in means of questionable humor - but that was not what Sorey was looking for this time. Instead, his eyes scooped the most recent posts on the site, and… _Here_.

Sorey quickly plugged his earphones to the phone and opened the link to the livestream.

The video was shaky and unfocused; it was hard to see exactly what was going on as the person holding the camera moved, trying to get a better view of the office building. Sorey gripped the phone harder, waiting in anticipation, and…

Boom. The sound of an impact echoed in Sorey’s ears; he could see the cloud of dust rising from the side of the building. The camera zoomed in, and Sorey saw a flash of red and white. _Lailah._ The fire enveloping her figure made her look otherworldly and dangerous, so different from her usual self.

She straightened her back, her uncommonly long, white hair scattering around her in the wind. She was too far from the camera to see her expression, but Sorey could swear she wore her dead serious expression, as always when she fought. Lailah was never the one to underestimate her opponents.

Suddenly, she jumped to the side; in the place she stood the second before there was a sharp, gigantic icicle glistening in the sunlight.

 _That was close._ Sorey let out a shaky breath, and in the same moment, _he_ arrived.

The blank, white mask with twisted dragon horns. The white and navy blue outfit, decorated by the black ornaments; the double capes swirling lazily in the air behind him.

The Dragon.

Sorey didn’t have enough time to look at him closer; the man jumped in Lailah’s direction, the air around him sparkling as he froze the moisture in the air to form the platform under his feet.

“Clever trick,” as Lailah once said it, “but hard to pull off in presence of someone so _flaming_ as myself!”

Sorey chuckled under his breath at the memory. Lailah will be fine. They all will be fine - they were professionals, after all, and they were used to dealing with the Dragon’s traps and his fighting style.

 _Speaking of which_ … Sorey once again returned his gaze to the figure in white and blue.

If Lailah and Edna were indeed like fire and earth, then the Dragon was water; moody, cool, but able to change in a second and adapt to nearly everything - he had the perfect control over his element. There was some finesse to his fighting style, too - from far away, it could seem it was choreographed in detail like the most beautiful of dances, almost too graceful to deal any real damage, but Sorey knew first-hand how dangerous it could be. Combined with Lailah’s own power, their fight looked spectacular. Sorey could hardly blame the person that decided to sneak so closely and broadcast the video.

And, common sense be damned, but Sorey’s inner nerd really appreciated how the Dragon’s outfit was not only referring to the legend of the Grand Seraph and the Sleeping Shepherd, but also appeared to be absolutely historically accurate, as far as Sorey could tell. The ornaments, the cut… Everything looked like the outfits that Sorey has seen in his history books.

(When he had shared that observation with his friends some time ago, they looked at him with different levels of suprise and bewilderment. “Seriously,” Rose murmured, “sometimes I wonder if _you_ are the Dragon. There's only so much hardcore nerds the city can hold.”)

Sorey shook his head and stopped the video. All things considered, the chances that he and the rest will be able to meet has dropped dramatically. Why did the villains liked to attack right when they wanted to hang out?

 _Well, no point in complaining_ , Sorey reminded himself. Tomorrow, they will meet again, and the rest will tell him about what did the Dragon tried to do this time; they will laugh it off, as they always do, and Lailah will tell jokes about how _cool_ the Dragon was when he covered the whole area in ice, or how _bubbling_ the fight was, or-

Suddenly, Sorey realized that the bus stopped a while ago. He snapped out from his haze and noticed that they have already arrived at his bus stop.

The doors began closing.

“Shit,” Sorey murmured to himself and grabbed his bag. His whole body tensed and before he could so much as think, he was already out in a flash.

Sometimes it was not so bad to have some superpowers.

He kept waving to the few startled passengers until the bus drove away, freeing Sorey of their prying eyes. He sighed with relief.

At the way to his house, he could finally, finally relax. The evening of watching documentaries and eating as much pizza as he would be able to fit in his stomach awaited him; he should probably go buy some groceries too, just in case Zenrus would come back unannounced. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all - Sorey’s grandpa was usually too caught up in managing the police and clearing up the mess that the villains left behind again to bother with such details as phoning.

That was going to be a slow, lazy evening.

At least, that’s what Sorey thought before he noticed the man bleeding out on his doorstep.

This- this couldn’t be happening, it simply _couldn’t_. Sorey froze in place and stared at the figure laying there on the pavement in the pool of- of blood, as if somehow the man would vanish if only Sorey looked at him for long enough.

 _He's dead_ , the thought crossed Sorey’s mind. _There is a corpse on the stairs._

Suddenly, Sorey found it hard to breathe.

But then, _thank god_ , Sorey saw the man twitch, and the force holding Sorey still disappeared.

“H-hey!” Sorey called out and run up to the man. “Are you okay?!”

The man moaned and _of course he's not okay, idiot, he's bleeding all over the place_. The man didn’t seem to have the strength to move his head from the awkward position, face-down. His clothes were steeped in blood, leaving only a few places here and there that shown the white cloth; it was even hard to tell what he was wearing, exactly.

Sorey fumbled for his phone. “Wait for a second, I'll just-”

The man whined, again, and his fingers twitched. Sorey took in a deep breath and tried to remember what Lailah has taught him about first aid. _Better first stop the bleeding._

“I'm sorry, I need to turn you on your back,” Sorey said with as much calmness in his voice as he could gather. He grabbed the man by his shoulder and put a hand under the man's cheek.

Sorey felt something hard under his palm. He frowned. Did something hurt the man’s face? Hell, Sorey was definitely not prepared for dealing with some even more horrible, open injuries.

Carefully, he turned the man around, and Sorey’s breath hitched. Not because of some new injury - the man’s face was scratched and deathly pale, yet not hurt. But in that moment, Sorey couldn’t care less about that.

Because on the ground, under the man’s body, were the remains of what once must have been the white mask with twisted horns.

 _The Dragon_. The words sent shivers down Sorey’s spine. _But how- how did he get here? Wasn't the fight supposed to be in the centre? It’s not that far, but..._

Sorey bit his lip, trying to stop himself from panicking. Here he was - alone, with a bleeding man on his doorstep. A man, who may or may not have been the famous supervillain, but for certain needed help, and needed it quickly. Sorey should call the ambulance, right? Right?

No, no; it would take too long, and besides, the man - the _Dragon_ \- would probably rather not end up in a public hospital…

Sorey shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking about what the man would prefer or not; he was bleeding, for Maotelus’ sake, his chest was barely moving under Sorey’s hands, he really was _dying_ -

Sorey felt the blood damping his hands. He looked the man in the face, and came to a decision.

* * *

Mikleo awoke in pain.

He grunted through his clenched teeth. God, that hurt. He could vaguely remember how the white-haired woman distracted him with a fire a second too long; just enough for the other one, readhead, to slice her way through his stomach. He could still recall the fear that had run through him, how he chose to cast the spectral cloak and run as far as he could and hide but couldn’t move without every step feeling like an agony, and soon he was falling down on the hard pavement-

Which, as he realized, didn’t match what he was feeling at all. True, the wound was still hurting, but not nearly enough as it should have. And he was laying in a bed. In his underwear. Hm.

He opened his eyes. There was not much light - the only source of it was the streetlamp behind the window, illuminating the room in orangish color. Mikleo was fighting in the late afternoon, so… He blacked out for a few hours?

He tried to prop himself on his elbows but as soon as he moved, the flash of pain overwhelmed him. He couldn’t stop a moan from escaping his mouth. Mikleo slumped down on a bed; when he was not moving around, it was almost bearable. Carefully, he moved his arm and soon he managed to lift the covers to take a look at himself. His torso was tightly wrapped by bandages, pure white and clean ones at that. They shouldn't be like that. By all means, they should be soaked in red by the blood flowing out of his body; Mikleo felt in his bones that the injury was too serious to heal so effortlessly.

So, he was nearly naked and almost entirely defenceless. Great. How much time did he spend here? Did the person that had found him called for an ambulance? Police? _Heroes_? No, that couldn’t be; if they did, Mikleo would be in a hospital - or dead - by now. Which meant that someone sheltered him and was nursing him to health on their own accord, just because-

Mikleo heard footsteps.

He called his powers, and to his relief, he felt water rushing through the pipes not so far away. If it comes to the worst, he'll be able to fend the person off for long enough to find a way to flee. He took in a deep breath and waited.

The lights turned on on the corridor,  and after a few seconds, the door to the room opened.

The man was holding a tray with food with his both hands. He looked… not dangerous, but Mikleo has learned not to judge by appearances alone.

“Leave the tray on the bedstand,” Mikleo said in a raspy voice.

The man jolted and almost spilled the water from the glass. “Oh, you are awake! Thank god, I was starting to think that-”

“Leave. The tray. On the bedstand, ” Mikleo slowly growled in a warning.

“Oh. O-okay.” The man made a few nervous steps across the room, carefully observed by Mikleo, and delicately put the tray down. Mikleo could sense the smell of some kind of stew and… were that pancakes?

Mikleo stopped himself from letting out yet another growl. Eating soup, that he could manage - he was pretty certain he could somehow manipulate the fluid to his mouth without moving an inch - but trying to get to the stale food would require much more movement, and much more pain, and that's without trying to use a fork and a knife correctly.

“Should I slice them for you?” the man asked, as if he could hear Mikleo’s thoughts. Which could be true, for all Mikleo knew.

Mikleo frowned. “Why?”

“I figured out it would be hard for you to eat right now.” The man grabbed the cutlery and started cutting the pancakes into small pieces. Mikleo watched his every move. “Besides, that will make it easier for me to feed you.”

Mikleo must have misheard something. “What?”

“You can’t move, so I'll need to-”

“Bullshit,” Mikleo cut him off. He clenched his teeth and once again tried to raise up. The pain was _mind-blowing_ and Mikleo could almost feel his skin tearing open again, but he was determined to succeed. He glared at the man in a challenge.

The man, who immediately rushed to his side. “Stop! You really shouldn't-”

As soon as the man was within Mikleo’s range, Mikleo grabbed him by his arm and yanked. The man swayed and lost his balance, giving Mikleo enough time to call his artes.

A few seconds later, the man was splayed on the bed next to Mikleo with the knife pressed to his throat.

“I'm more than capable of doing what I want to, don’t you think?” Mikleo pressed the dull blade harder to the man's neck. “If that was a real knife, you would be already dead.”

Mikleo saw the man's eyes widen. “Wow.”

Mikleo’s brows drew together. “What- what is _that_ supposed to mean?!”

“You distracted me and threw me on a bed with one hand, and manipulated the water from the glass to shoot the knife right to the other one. That's impressive. You have an absolute control over yourself!”

Mikleo looked at the man for a long while, but couldn’t see anything but sincere excitement and a hint of curiosity. Slowly, he withdrew his hand from the man's throat.

“You are weird,” he murmured. The man laughed in response.

“I'm Sorey,” the man added as he sat up on the bed next to Mikleo. “Nice to meet you.”

“I take back what I said. You are clearly insane.”

The man - Sorey - pouted at that. “Hey! That's not nice!”

“You do realise that I had a knife on your artery a second ago, right?”

“A _butter_ knife. And I can hardly blame you for being… cautious. But at least it clears up a few things.”

Mikleo mentally sighed with relief. So Sorey didn't know everything. That could partially explain why Sorey was so unguarded - well, no one expects to find an infamous supervillain on their doorstep. It was much easier to believe that he was just a badly hurt imposter. Easier, and much more foolish.

“Glad to help straighten that up,” Mikleo murmured.

He would have to observe Sorey more closely from now on. Before, Sorey might have been hesitant to alarm the authorities, but now he had absolutely no need to hold back. If he needs to…

Mikleo’s fingers clutched the knife.

“Where are my clothes?”

“I… I needed to take them off to treat the wound and wash you.” Sorey’s eyes darted to the side. He looked almost… embarrassed? “But don’t worry, I will give them back to you as soon as they are dry.”

“You _washed_ them?”

“And sewn the front. I mean, I am no genius at sewing, but it's still better than parading with a giant hole, right?”

“Why are you doing this?” Mikleo snapped. “This, the whole thing-” he gestured towards the food “-you didn’t need to do any of this. Hell, you probably shouldn't! You are helping a criminal, but you are so, so _unfazed_ and healing me and making me fucking _pancakes_ like it's not a big deal. Just what do you _want_ from me?!”

He shouted out the last words. Mikleo’s hands twisted in the sheets, the fingers clutching them desperately. The emotions - anger, fear, irritation - flooded over his mind. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t. And not understanding was dangerous; a first step to a failure, slip, death. Usually, Mikleo could read the person's emotions and true motives easily, but this man, still looking at his shoes in embarrassment, was simply beyond Mikleo’s level of understanding.

“You want to know why I helped you?” Sorey’s voice sounded awfully quiet after Mikleo’s shout. “You were bleeding out and if I didn’t help, it would be the same as killing you.”

“You could have treated me and then called the police. But you didn’t.”

“I...” Sorey bit his lip - a small, nervous gesture - and raised his eyes to meet Mikleo’s. _Green_ , Mikleo noticed in the dim light.

“I don’t know,” Sorey said. “It just seemed like the right thing to do.”

He looked as lost as Mikleo felt. “You are insane.”

“Yeah, you mentioned.” And there it was, that out-of-place smile again. This time, Mikleo couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping his throat.

He regretted it instantly; he grimaced in pain. “Fuck.”

“See? It's better for you not to move. You'll tear open your wound again.”

“Right, right,” Mikleo mumbled. “Which reminds me...” He glanced at Sorey from the corner of his eye. “How did you manage to treat me?”

Sorey stiffened. “What?”

“Don’t play stupid. The wound was mortal, that much I know. I passed out from blood loss; without a transfusion, it was certain I'd die. And yet here I am, somehow alive,  and you don't strike me as a type of a person who have the knowledge or the equipment to save a life without any help from the outside. But I don’t see anyone else but you here, so I want to know how you did that.”

A quick flick of a tongue across the lips. “I-I don’t think you need to know that.”

“You are a super, aren’t you.”

Sorey jerked and looked at Mikleo in surprise. For a moment, there was a glimpse of something in his eyes - shock or fear, Mikleo couldn’t tell. Mikleo understood that all too well. Most of the supers chose to hide their powers in fear of social consequences, so being outed like that must have been quite scary.

Sorey nodded, slowly.

“I don’t usually do this, but… I can boost my body if needed. Healing included. And if someone... absorbs... something with my DNA, my powers start to treat them like a part of my body, so I can heal them, too. It’s not as effective, but you should be completely healed soon anyway, so...” Sorey shrugged, as if he suddenly forgot what he wanted to say. He glanced away, clearly averting Mikleo’s eyes with awkwardness written all over his face.

Mikleo’s eyes widened. _No way._

“Don’t tell me you did something weird to me while I was unconscious.”

Sorey pursed his lips together, still not able to look Mikleo in the eye, and that was enough of an answer for Mikleo.

“Did you… did you kiss me?” Mikleo almost snorted.

“I didn’t have a choice, okay?!” Sorey exploded, his face suddenly reddening. “It was- I didn’t mean to- It was the fastest way! I didn't do anything more, I swear!”

Mikleo raised his eyebrow. “You are making it worse, you know.”

Sorey groaned. “I don’t- Agh, you know what, I'll just shut up.”

Sorey pressed his lips together and rose from the bed. His brows were drawn together in a childlike, pouty expression as he came back to attacking the pancakes with fury, using only a fork this time.

Mikleo let his head hit the pillows again. This was… bizarre. Sorey was bizarre, the situation was bizarre, the strange, orange light of the streetlamps was bizarre. It seemed unreal, but not entirely bad; like his last attempt at baking a cake - not exactly what he expected, but good enough. _This_ was good enough.

“Was it nice?” Mikleo asked.

Sorey sent him a blank stare.“What?”

“Kissing me.”

“O-oh.” Sorey’s voice stuttered, as did his hands; he nearly dropped the fork.

 _He is really nervous about this, isn’t he?_ , Mikleo thought. The smirk appeared on his face.

“You liked it?” he asked nonchalantly.

“You were bleeding out,” Sorey mumbled. “Dying. That kind of took away the appeal.”

“But you liked it. Am I that tempting even half-dead? Tell me, how was it like to kiss the famous criminal? You did it for the thrill?”

“Stop that!” The fork flew out of Sorey’s hand. Mikleo chuckled, and Sorey’s blush deepened.

Sorey bent down to grab it from the floor. “Really,” he babbled. “I didn’t expect you’ll be so…”

“So annoying?”

“So _normal_ ,” Sorey ended. He glared at Mikleo, and Mikleo couldn’t resist sticking his tongue at him. Sorey huffed and continued, “How old are you, anyway? You can't be much older than I am.”

Mikleo raised his brow. “You seriously expect me to answer that? And what, should I give you my full name and address, too?”

“It would be only fair. You know my name, after all.” Sorey shrugged. “No, never mind. It was stupid to ask. Sorry.”

Mikleo sent him a triumphant smirk. “Better be. I know where you live.”

“Oh.” Sorey licked his lips. “I hadn’t thought about this.”

Mikleo muffled a laugh and looked at Sorey. But Sorey was completely still, without a trace of amusement on his face. In fact, he looked… troubled.

“Maotelus, you really are serious,” Mikleo said with disbelief. “You, for real, didn’t think this out.”

“Hey, it isn’t _that_ bad,” Sorey objected. “If it was some big, scary guy I would be worried, but it’s… well, it was you.”

Mikleo searched Sorey’s face for any sign of the man joking, but there was none. “I feel almost insulted,” Mikleo murmured. “You really are insane to trust me like that.”

Sorey laughed nervously. “I guess I have a thing for figuring out who can I trust or not.”

“And you figured out that you want to trust me? Me? The evil supervillain?”

“I don’t think you are evil,” Sorey replied so fast it seemed to surprise even him. “I…”

Sorey looked like he wanted to say something, but suddenly found himself at loss for words. He shook his head, as if trying to chase off some unwanted thoughts. “Not… not good, if you are wondering. Just… not completely evil.”

“Oh.” Now Mikleo couldn’t think of how to reply. “That’s… flattering.”

“I would even dare to say that you are nice if you didn’t try to destroy the town today.”

“And you ruined it.” Mikleo rolled his eyes. Sorey laughed; a high, sincere sound rung in Mikleo’s ears, and Mikleo would be lying if he said he didn’t like it. It was soothing, somehow, not mocking, not trying to cover anything, simply expressing the joy Sorey had while talking with Mikleo.

And, for some reason, it made Mikleo feel safe.

Mikleo let himself smile one last time and carefully turned on his side, his back facing Sorey. He wrapped the covers tightly around himself.

“You are not going to eat?” Sorey asked.

“Not now. I'm not hungry. Just tired.” Mikleo nuzzled his face into the pillow. “And, Sorey?”

“What?”

“Thank you.”

Sorey didn’t answer. Or maybe he did, but Mikleo couldn’t know - the stress weighted on him and in short while he drifted into a sleep.

It was a dreamless one.

* * *

The next day, when Sorey came to check on him in the morning, Mikleo was already gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a few more ideas for this AU - not enough to make it a full multichapter story, but I'm going to make it a series so that I can write whenever the inspiration strikes without feeling pressured. So if you would like to read more of this, please subscribe to the series!
> 
> Any feedback would be appreciated! :D And if you have some ideas of your own, or just want to scream with me about Zesty, feel free to message me on my [tumblr.](http://women-books-coffie.tumblr.com/)


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